


Sunrise (The Morning After)

by abluestocking



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Cozy, Extra Treat, F/F, First Time, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-27 12:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8401273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abluestocking/pseuds/abluestocking
Summary: Nancy McNally is having a thoroughly good morning.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brutti_ma_buoni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brutti_ma_buoni/gifts).



Dr. Nancy McNally, former National Security Advisor to the President of the United States and now United States Ambassador to the United Nations, is having a good morning.

Some of the reasons include:

The hot cup of tea in her hands, steaming in the crisp autumn air.

The bacon sizzling in the frying pan on the stove.

The morning breeze blowing in through the open window, snappy and refreshing.

The cat rubbing contentedly against her legs, answering to the name of Ida and gently reminding Nancy that she too is in search of breakfast.

The warm sweater Nancy is wearing, soft and fuzzy in all the right places.

But the greatest reason is none of these things.

Nancy finishes her tea and gets up to feed Ida, scramble some eggs, and put some toast in the toaster. She hums as she cooks, something tuneless and comfortable. Ever since she was young, she’s been a morning person; if today’s mornings are filled with briefing books and memos, instead of snatched book chapters, they are still her favorite parts of her days.

“Something smells good in here,” a deep voice says from the doorway of her bedroom, and Nancy turns around, already smiling.

(This is the greatest reason that Nancy is having a good morning.)

C.J.’s clothes are rumpled – Nancy’s not sure if C.J. ever picked them up off the floor last night – and she’s rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her hair is askew and there’s a pillow crease on her cheek. She looks sleepy, languorous, and absolutely beautiful.

“I thought the least I could do after last night is cook you breakfast,” Nancy says, waving her to a seat at the kitchen table.

C.J. drops into a chair, a smile playing across her lips. “I seem to remember that both of us enjoyed last night.”

“Yes,” Nancy says, not bothering to suppress a wicked grin. She isn’t young, with a kid’s tolerance level for silly games. C.J.’s not young either, even if she’s nine or ten years younger than Nancy. Both of them are quite mature enough to recognize a good thing when they see it, and not beat around the bush being coy. “If I’d known you were that good in bed, I would’ve seduced you years ago.”

“You would _not_ ,” C.J. says, laughing. They both know that it would never have been possible while they were coworkers, fellow participants in the Jed Bartlet experience. 

But both Jed and C.J. are retired now, and the world has changed. 

“Maybe not,” Nancy says, dishing up bacon and eggs and buttering a slice of toast. “But I would have regretted every moment I wasn’t.”

“Well,” C.J. says, smiling up at her, “it’s a new era.”

Nancy thinks about the multiple conflagrations she needs to put out today. Although C.J. is retired now, Nancy isn’t; her life is still complicated and full. Her morning won’t stay this relaxed and idyllic for long.

But as she puts C.J.’s breakfast in front of her and then leans down for a kiss, she vows to enjoy every moment of it.

“So,” C.J. says, tucking in to her breakfast while Nancy fixes herself a plate, “tell me about the situation in Palestine.”

“You can take the woman out of politics, but you can’t take politics out of the woman,” Nancy teases, but she doesn’t mind. 

After breakfast, they may have time for a return to the bedroom before Nancy has to leave for work. (It may be a Saturday, but that means nothing in politics, and never has.) This relationship may be in its most fledgling stage, but Nancy already knows that it’s one she’s interested in pursuing. She thinks sitting at the breakfast table with C.J. every morning sounds fantastic.

For now, she sits down, fends off Ida’s plaintive plea for more bacon, and starts in on Palestine, with C.J. nodding along and asking astute questions. 

Nancy's eggs are cooked just right, and her bacon is crispy. Her cat curls up on her feet, playing the martyr and hoping for dropped scraps. Her new lover sits across the breakfast table, her hair curly, her eyes beautiful, and her face sharp with intelligence. 

Indeed, Nancy is having a thoroughly good morning.


End file.
